


Good Intentions, and a glass of Beeer

by ausmac



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Omega, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 17:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21212078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausmac/pseuds/ausmac
Summary: Varian is about to deliver and Garrosh tries to be helpful.I have no idea where it sprang from, don't ask me.  But I thought Carpe Noctem might enjoy it ):





	Good Intentions, and a glass of Beeer

Varian tensed as another wave of pain rippled through his body and he didn't even try to muffle the groan as muscles cramped and sweat slid down his face and chest. He'd been enduring the pain for hours and it didn't look like ending anytime soon.

He sucked in a breath, and cursed as stressed chest muscles twinged. There was a stir at the door as a large brown figure pushed through the group of healers and his eyes narrowed, the pain momentarily forgotten.

"What'r you doing here?"

Garrosh smiled. At least Varian thought it was a smile – it was either that or he was grimacing in sympathy, which didn't seem likely. Garrosh stopped beside the bed and looked down at him, eyes narrowing.

"I'm here to…support you."

"Say what?"

A large hand clamped on top of his head and then commenced to pat it. It was a rather awkward and violent pat and his head bounced backwards onto the bedhead. "Outch! Fuck, what are you doing!"

"I'm…offering sympathy. Healer said I should, y'now, make you feel better."

"By giving me concussion? You idiot orc!"

The hand released his head and slid down to his shoulder, and squeezed it. "There, there."

Varian couldn't help it: he chocked out a laugh. "There, there?"

The Warchief reached into a small pouch on his belt and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, which he raised to reading level. "Ah…how are you feeling? Can I…get you anything?" Garrosh gave him what Varian presumed passed for an Orc trying to look helpful. "Beer, perhaps?"

"Right, yes, beer. Always a good idea at times like this." He wheezed as a sudden and severe cramping blossomed in his lower, swollen stomach. The nearest healer, a senior Tauren druid, shoved Garrosh aside with no concern at all for his Warchief's authority.

"If you wish to stay for the birth, Warchief, I suggest you move aside, as I believe it is imminent."

Through the haze of pain and a certain sweaty amusement, Varian watched as his mate paled, shook his head violently and backed away. "I'll…go get…some beer. And cheese…and…some hot water or…something…" He headed for the door, shoved a hapless chair out of the way and bolted down the stairs.

The healer muttered as he assisted his patient into a more comfortable position. "Idiot…"

"I heard that." Varian began breathing in in deep, controlled breaths. "His intentions were good…"

And as his time came, Varian wondered briefly if Garrosh would return any time soon with some beer…


End file.
